The Crystal King
by Molten-Ashes
Summary: An ancient race has guarded the Matrix for millennia protecting the Prime and the Relic from harm. Jazz is about to have his first encounter with a being much more dangerous than any Decepticon...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Prompt: If You Want To Live - Run

Warnings: Unnatural body morphing (kinda)

Notes: Written for the 2014 Prowl/Jazz Community Anniversary Challenge wayyy back in... September? But it spawned some more ideas and this is where I'm going to store any more expansions on this AU enjoy!

The anger was blindingly cold in his lines. It caused a dark cramp in his chestplates, squeezing his spark like a Constrictor and it was all because of one of Optimus Prime's advisors, a mech named Jazz.

The council had given him to the Prime like a long over due inheritance, which technically speaking he was, after the annihilation of Praxus. A good will gesture to the newest Prime, proof of their power and support, after all, what mechs could boast without prosecution that they had captured a Crystalline but them?

He was clad in black and white armour, crushed into his metal prison, forced to take only two forms for the rest of the Matrix of Leadership's existence, three if you included the transformation sequence of his mech form. Oh they had been clever, his captors and tormentors of so long ago, binding him with an ancient ritual to the relic all worshipped, yet only the power hungry craved.

Optimus' advisor had known what he was on sight, being a mech that thrived on secret information and all, faceplate draining of energon in horror, as he stumbled back from the introduction. "You're the Crystalline."

Prowl snorted, already in a bad mood as it was, methane puffing from his olfactory sensor, causing the vibrant crystal sapling on Optimus's desk to brighten and levitate higher. "Glad to see somebody realises that I am not just a bundle of metal and wires."

"Prowl, please." Optimus warned, "Be calm. I don't need you shedding your metal skin again in the middle of the base."

"Optimus, when were you going to tell me about this?!" Jazz cried in horror, "Do you even know what he is?! Not to mention how many natural laws this breaks!"

"I'm telling you about him now." The Prime said, honestly confused, "As you've said Jazz, Prowl is a Crystalline that is bound to serve the Matrix until it is destroyed..."

"Or emptied." Prowl chimed in, flicking a doorwing irritably.

"Or emptied," Optimus continued as if the interruption hadn't happened, "As for rules, I have heard of none."

"It's natural law that all creatures sentient and benevolent be left free to roam Cybertron, it's written in the Archivist Text!" The blue opticked mech growled, optics fiery, gesturing in frustration, "Hand written by the First Thirteen Primes!"

Prowl raised an optic ridge in interest swivelling his gaze to the befuddled Optimus, "You command a devout follower of Primus' teachings. Not since Zeta have I seen such negativity to my presence."

"Not towards you personally." The black and white mech was quick to amend at the slightly hostile tone. "I've seen a Crystalline, a free one. He tended his gardens in Polyhex with glee like any nature fairy should."

Prowls optics darkened, narrowing as he shook with an uncontrollable fury, "You imply I do not do my duty to my gardens."

"I know you do not. Bound to the Primes as you are."

Before Optimus could stop him, the Crystalline seemed to stretch, a sickening crunch making the Special Operations mech cringe, drawing a dagger on reflex as the being of pure near indestructible crystal shed its binding prison.

The doorwings broke away first, dropping to the floor, energon and lubricant dribbling from the hinges as something seemed to struggle free from Prowl's spine. The black and white armour faded grey, the battle hardened metal splitting cleanly down the back strut in a thunderous snarl as a bright luminescence glowed beneath the metal flesh.

The Tactician's servos burst in a shower of pink liquid as they became long translucent talons, each digit a terrible scythe peppered with imperfections pumping with methane and crystal dust, the lifeblood of the creature beneath. His legs ripped, pedes popping as a whole foot became three claws, a horrible clasping digit springing from the heel like a poisonous barb. The helm came last, shaking free of its metal confines into the perfect ethereal face adorned by a glowing crown of ruby crystals.

"Those fools you call a council didn't just capture any old Crystalline, any old fairy." Prowl hissed, his voice like nails scraping down a chalkboard and smashing glass all at once. "Back in ages past, you would have once called me The Crystal king."

Jazz shook in his struts, Optimus sighing as he looked down at the pile of metal, wires, tubing and energon littering his office floor now that Prowl had temporarily broken free of his Cybertronian skin.

The Crystal King advanced, chest and body aglow with a three dimensional star at the centre of his chest plates, binding runes blushing purple on his wrists and ankles as he snarled, perfect lips pulling back to reveal needle like denta.

"Jazz!" Optimus boomed, "if you want to live past this moment. Run!"

The Polyhexian didn't look back.

===A Joor Later===

After much snarling and a good beating down at the servos of his Prime, Prowl receded back into the armour, fury still running hot in his fake lines. The crystal on Optimus' desk had turned a blood red, shot through with black, fluxing with its caretakers mood. "He is right you know." Optimus said softly after Prowl paused to stroke the child gem, the only remainder of what had once been the Praxus Crystal Gardens, the home of The Crystal King and his children, the origin point of an underground nation that had once stretched from Kaon to Iacon. "You don't do nearly half the gardening as you used to."

Frowning Prowl picked up the gem, poking the tip of a talon through his finger pad and shearing a section, returning the shard to the bowl filled with a nourishing fluid, the blood of its king, to begin anew.

"Where are you going?" Optimus asked curiously as the being posing and actually being his tactician moved for the door, clawed fingers already working at the now dusky blue crystal in his servos, twinkling dust falling to the floor in shimmers.

"To apologise. I didn't exactly make it clear what Garden I tended. I didn't have any grounds to try and attack him." Prowl grumbled, doorwings flaring as if in challenge, turning with a half completed visor in his servos, "And to keep your Saboteur from getting killed the next time he is on a mission. His optics are too expressive."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&amp;R

(I have no excuse, Fairy!Prowl wanted attention, he got it. Thanks to Ice Fata for looking this over! Enjoy!)

* * *

The Crystal King is agitated.

Optimus does not know how he knows, but the Matrix leaping in his chest with an echo of frustration might have something to do with it.

Curious as to what could have the usually indifferent immortal so riled, he abandons his paperwork and wanders the base, familiar turns and twists crowded with mechs greeting him or sleepily stumbling to or from their shifts.

The matrix sings softly when he reaches the entrance to the base, 'beyond the wall' it whispers in a hundred voices, cacophonous and excited, 'hurry...Hurry!'.

The sentry almost has a fit when he requests to be let out beyond the walls, alone and seemingly defenceless, but it is the unearthly glow in his optics, sparkling white at the rim and the bright glow at the seams of his heavily armoured chest plates, Primus's light glowing in his spark, that finally persuades the nervous guard to do as he bid.

Optimus is in a daze as he walks the walls with a servo gently running the scarred barrier, pitted with charred holes and cracks that need mending. "Prowl?" He asks the quiet stillness, jumping when a loud crash of smashing crystal, the roar of a Crystaline, answers his enquiry just beyond the corner.

The sight that greets him is bizarre.

A Crystaline, blue, red and white with a small golden crystal diadem is crouched over what appears to be a bundle of rags, hissing and snapping his needle denta at an equally aggressive Prowl, his metal skin in a morbid energon splattered pile at the wall as he stalks in his near indestructible crystal form, the runes of the binding ritual that ropes him to Optimus and the Primes glowing as he postures and snarls, methane puffing from his mouth and nostrils, his red crown of crystals flushed and radiating an intense light.

The pile under the smaller Crystaline shifts between its taloned pedes, a tiny warbling whimper breaking the tense stand off.

A newborn tumbles from the makeshift nest, precious soft gems of bright silver and deep blushing rouge. It sports small hooked protrusions on its back, three tiny blades of floating crystals lancing from each shoulder blade to its lower back follow its struggled movements from six methane vents.

Prowl rumbles, his own crystal protrusions flexing out as he opens the methane vents on his back, the black and white blades that resemble a Praxian doorwing seeming to stretch in relief from being curled to his spinal strut for so long. The gem child keens at the familiar sight, a high pitched ring that only small fragile crystals can make when they vibrate. It's carer watches wearily, stooping lower to nudge the infant with its long talons, almost as if it is unsure how to respond to the baby nature fairy's cries.

"You should not have brought him here, Smokescreen. This is no place for a Shardling." Prowl finally spoke, commanding and disapproval clear, his fiery crown dulling in wonder.

"The Garden in Kaon is no place for him either!" The smaller adult snapped back defensively, "Let him stay here, my king, please, I don't know how to care for it."

Optimus could see the indecision on Prowl's usually expressionless face. The Crystal King clearly wanted the Shardling and its Spawner here near him, a precious find from a very unlikely place that had travelled so far just to beg his help, but, he also had a bound duty to the Matrix and the Prime that he simply couldn't leave.

"Prowl!" He called from his safe distance, the black and white 'wings' of the Crystal King folding down to his body as he closed his vents in surprise at the Prime's appearance.

Smokescreen snarls, scooping the child up and close to the star trapped in his chest, his precious cargo cocooned in a dangerous taloned barrier. The infant nuzzles close with a delighted croon to its parent as Prowl moves to intercept Primus' avatar, both adult Crystaline putting themselves before the perceived danger.

"Optimus." Prowl acknowledges, talons flexing, uncertain of the Prime's reaction to this unexpected scenario.

"Your kin is always welcome, Prowl, Shardlings included." Optimus smiles behind his mask as Smokescreen relaxes when his King does, talons loosening their hold ever so slightly, allowing the child to peer curiously at him with recherché blue optical jewels through the gaps. "Come, I know just the mech that can help you..."

===Two Orns Later===

Jazz was really beginning to regret finding out that Prowl was a Crystaline. It was bad enough that he had potshots taken at him by Decepticons on missions and now he had to babysit the king of an ancient race when Optimus needed a break from the immortal's incessant hovering.

But this was asking just a smidgen too much.

Even if the Shardling was completely, irrevocably adorable.

It had a sweet disposition, humming or chiming in curiosity whenever someone disturbed it's curled sleeping in the spare pot in Prowl's office, buried in the special soil mixture the fairy king had brewed.

Jazz sighed, watching as it eyed him curiously under a fine layer of dirt, glittering eye gems following his every movement, before it snuggled deeper in contentment when Prowl entered its peripheral.

"So Smokescreen spawned this?" He asked with intrigue squatting down and watching the light source dull as the fairy child entered recharge.

"Yes." Prowl nodded blandly, "he had an encounter and Bluestreak was the product."

"An Encounter?" Jazz parroted.

"Fairies are normally solitary family creatures, we don't share our gardens, or their designs well with other families. We meet only at the border of two gardens to mate and prevent inbreeding. The carrier rears the child with very little, if any, Sire input but the infant is always raised with plenty of support from other family members." Prowl explained adding a new layer of energy rich soil causing the child beneath to croon in bliss as it absorbed the nutrients.

"So why are you caring for him?" Jazz asked softly.

"I take care of Kin. I am both a Sire and Sibling to my people. Smokescreen is a first time Spawner and has no family to help guide him through rearing a Shardling. As a Kaonite Crystaline his gardens were the first to disappear." The tactical officer snorted, patting the now deep layer that disguised and hid the Shardling from view until he and its Spawner could teach it to build itself a guise to hide in.

"So how's Smokescreen fitting in?" Jazz smiled rising to stretch as Prowl pulled the pot a safer distance from the door, less the Shardling go looking for its parent when he wasn't looking, covering it with a small mesh blanket to keep it warm. "It's his first patrol this orn isn't it?"

"For a Spawner that only birthed his Shard a few Decacycles ago, he is repairing well, a few deep cracks but nothing that would Shatter him." The King sniffed as if he were insulted, "Indeed, he is adapting to his new role well. May I remind you that we are not fragile creatures, Jazz."

"Mech, i am fully aware." Jazz snorted, "Only you and your kind can walk off a direct blast from Megatron's Fusion Cannon. And don't lie about that, I saw you jump back to your feet after you got over your surprise."

"I shouldn't have fallen over in the first place," The tactician huffed, tilting his helm to listen when the Shardling began to hum and tinkle like a wind chime to itself in its little sanctuary. "But since I can't deny your point, I shall concede."

"How gracious of you, your majesty." Jazz said with a subservient bow, a laugh trickling right from his spark into the air at the unimpressed look Prowl offered him for his submissive posturing.

"Primus and the Thirteen, I will never understand you." The Crystal King sighed shaking his chevroned helm, a cloud of milky methane puffing from his nostrils like a dragon.

"That's part of my charm, Prowler, what kind of sparkling sitter would I be if I didn't entertain my charges?" The visored saboteur purred smugly, squeaking with a core written fright when he noticed the tips of Prowl's massive talons beginning to tear through his guise's fingers as the fairy's ire rose.

"I resent the fact you think I need to be coddled." The Second In Command grumbled, a deep rumbling crackle that made the playful Cybertronian back off with his servos raised placatingly. "Anyway, it is just little Bluestreak you will be caring for. I am... Taking care of a few things off base. Besides Optimus, you are the only mech I trust for this task. And as we both know, Optimus doesn't have time to entertain a curious, fragile Shardling in his office."

"Mech stop saying he's fragile, I bet I could drop him from the roof of the base and he'd just roll over and tweet up at me to do it again." Jazz protested jokingly as the Crystal King rose from his seat.

"Jazz." The gravity in the voice stopped his objections cold. "Shardlings are very fragile creatures. It is only when we are centuries, if not millenniums old do we gain our impenetrable skin. As he is barely ten deca cycles old, the slightest wrong tumble could break him. I leave him, and my kind's future in your servos."

With that the tactician swept from the room, leaving the shocked saboteur staring after him.

A sharp ringing tweet of frustration jerked him from his open mouthed staring, his visor alighting on the amusing sight of the Crystaline Shardling peering at him over the pot edge from under its protective mesh covering, small translucent silver talons curled over the lip of the pot.

He sighed, plodding over to the padded office chair and sitting in the admittedly comfy luxury item, rolling it close to play a game of peek-a-boo with the delighted tinkling fairy baby. After a few rounds and earning the most darling of ringing sounds from the Shardling, he reluctantly grinned down at his new fragile little friend curled up in its pot, "You are so lucky you are cute."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

please R&amp;R!

(More Fairy!Praxians. Looked over by the lovely Ice Fata! Enjoy!)

* * *

Jazz was seriously beginning to think he needed therapy.

Only the therapy wouldn't really help because the cause of said need of mental assistance was the only one on base somehow qualified to distribute it.

"You are stressed." Prowl observed with a quirked optic of interest over his mountain of paperwork, "Smokescreen has a free slot in his schedule if you require it."

"No offence your majesty but he's the cause of my stress. If I take that appointment I'll attempt to try and Shatter him," Jazz sighed with a growl, pacing the floor as if trying to wear a trench into the metal.

The sovereign raised as optic ridge in amusement, tilting his helm to the side so that his chevron flashed under the lighting of his office, a mere mockery of his true crown. "And, what, may I ask, has one of my Horde been doing to you?"

"He keeps badgering me about my frequent visits." Jazz seethed at the mere thought of the golden crowned Crystaline that lurked somewhere in the base.

The King snorted, the crystals dotted around the walls on small alcoves over flowing from their pots and slowly creeping their way up the walls, began to flash and create a technicolour light show with a gentle hum as the tactician began tapping his fingers on his desk. The tips of his talons slipped through the metal flesh and were beating a hypnotic bell like rhythm to the changing of the colours on the hard work surface. "During the Golden Age I was a rare presence among the civilian population of my kind. I preferred that they lived and respawned without my supreme influence. To actively seek me out for mere company is quite unheard of." "Must admit that it is half curiosity and half orders that I even stick around you after you nearly mauled me the first time." Jazz chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with guilt.

The black and white mech let out a sharp bark of laughter, a low gong that reverberated through Jazz's plating and seeming to shake his very spark casing. "I am well of aware that it is not for your peace of processor that you actively seek out me and mine for company lately. In fact, I heard from Smokescreen that Blaster is quite jealous."

"Blaster doesn't know what you or Smokey are." Jazz hummed with a grin, "Anyway, who do you think covered up that little accident with Smokescreen last Decacycle? All they remember is that they had some bad energon and what they thought was a Crystaline stalking the halls was merely a trick of the light."

"Optimus chose you well." Prowl approved optics glittering with a sharp intelligence, the light show around them dulling as Smokescreen entered the spacious office, a simple glamour shielding the recharging Shardling that he was cradling close to his chestplates from sight. "I wonder how curious you'll be when more of the mythical underworld come knocking?"

"You mean there's more hocus pocus other than Crystaline's?" Jazz moaned in exasperation, earning a snicker from Smokescreen as he glared at the new base psychologist. The Crystaline shed his metal skin once the door closed and locked behind him, the energon splattered carnage being shrugged off into a corner as the adult fairy settled beside the Shardling's pot, intently watching Bluestreak as the glittering gem child awoke, leaping from its Spawner to burrow into the new soil in its container with a ringing purr.

"You Cybertronian's are very... Unaware of the supernatural." Prowl tried to eloquent delicately, his optics shifting to tame Smokescreen with a severe glare when the gold diademed Crystaline muttered, "More like slagging blind.."

"Apologies, my King." The smaller fairy mumbled immediately, returning his gaze to his Shardling that had popped his helm above the dirt to cheep up at him much like a baby bird begging for food.

The Crystal King grunted an acknowledgement of the apology, turning back to his workload while Jazz continued to stare mystified as the Crystaline snapped off a red growth that had been blighting his smooth crystal physique for orns and bit off a sizeable chunk with his sharp spindly denta, crunching away at the gem that shrieked and splintered like nails running down a chalkboard, making Jazz's plating shiver. Bluestreak seemed to know what his Spawner was doing and started up a shrill cacophony of rings, whistles and high twitters, his small talons being lofted toward the adult now leaning above him and making cute grabbing motions.

Smokescreen breathed out a gentle puff of methane from his nostrils, opening his mouth to let twinkling shards of shattered ruby stars float down right into his Shardling's open mouth.

"Galaxy Breathers..." Jazz mumbled in wonder, recalling old folktales of Crystalines crunching up crystals with the lethal slim blades they called denta and breathing out the dust, methane and shards onto hidden alcoves, that when searched revealed only disturbed soil.

"It is how we directly nourish our young." Prowl broke into the moment, making him jump, switching his gaze to the soft smile and raised optical ridge of the Praxian that flared a wing to hide the spectacle. "Very rarely seen by those not of our kind..."

===Deca Cycle Later===

==Outskirts of Iacon==

=Jazz=

The mission had gone sour.

Rhodium was dead, the femme cored through the spark by an attack drone that had gotten in a lucky shot with its last spike javelin during extract. He had grabbed the vitals of her subspace contents that had promptly popped into existence when the spark that had control of the pocket dimension expired. He took everything he could, from her favourite dagger to the picture of her daughter.

He transformed and had driven most of the way back, a gang of Decepticons nipping at his exhaust like cyber hounds teasing a turbofox. The outskirts of the city were dangerous for returning saboteurs, a labyrinthian maze where mistakes were made as the returning mechs and femmes let down their guard.

Snipers were spread out a mile around the boarders of the Autobot base, perched high on cloaked Watchtowers. If he could get there, he would be safe.

It was not to be.

A shot clipped his ankle as he transformed to take a sharp turn he knew he just could not take on hovers, tumbling to the ground in a heap, skidding into the wall he had intended to vault with a pained cry, screaming from between his denta.

"We've got you now." The smallest of the pack hissed with a cackle of delight as the five arrived, puffing and panting through their vents, red optics glittering their glee as they surveyed his downed form struggle to rise, energon pouring from his shattered joint, Rhodium's discarded dagger humming in his grasp, determined to keep his Intel from eren terming Decepticon servos even if it killed him.

The world tilted slightly as he stood on one leg, hissing like a furious cat as he caught himself on the wall, staring down five gun barrels at point blank range.

Then, out of the dull rusted husks of the buildings torn and ravaged by war, a glowing being dropped from a burnt out window.

"Smokescreen?" He asked in bewilderment as the wild Crytsaline put himself before the discharged plasma of the enemy's guns.

The shots rippled as they impacted the near indestructible skin, shunting the fairy backwards, leaving talon furrows in the ground. The energy became one with the creature in a complete ripple of rainbow coloured light that shone throughout all of his crystal body, long, thick spikes of crystal literally growing as the energy condensed where the Crystaline bid it on his shoulders and hips.

"My King would prefer you alive, Autobot Jazz." The Cyrstaline hissed, baring his thin, sharp, nightmare fuel denta, optical gems turning to glower at him accusingly.

"Of course you wouldn't do this out of the kindness of your Core." Jazz snarked back, biting back a whimper as he tried to place his injured pede on the ground.

Smokescreen did not get a chance to reply, another burst of green energy smashing him in the face, his golden diadem merely glowing brighter as he absorbed the shot, a small green crystal growing on his shoulder. "I shall deal with this."

The fairy lunged, the Decepticons collectively screeching with explicit curses of horror as a being straight out of a fairytale leapt at them with large scythe like talons, needle teeth bared. It was over in moments, frames carved up into energon stained chunks with an eerie ease, like a spider web torn by the breeze.

"I suppose I should help you back to base, before you bleed out." The unbound Crystaline growled with a vicious pleasure as he returned from chasing the last of the five, energon coating his chest and talons, crouching before the Saboteur that had now slouched against the wall, dagger still gripped in his servo tightly. "You did help me collect food for my Shardling after all, it was taking me joors to try and find a good energy source."

Jazz winced, realising the odd coloured growths that Smokescreen had grown, the luminescent green, purple and red spikes that would most likely be ground up for Bluestreak to eat that very night cycle. "Glad I could help, wouldn't want Blue going hungry would we?"

The fairy puffed out a cloud of methane with a bright glower, Jazz's spark whispering that this was not a tame creature and that he really should hold his glossa. Because, for all of Smokescreen's playful antagonism towards him despite his obedience in his mech form, he was not constrained by the rules of magical runes if he ever did decide to act on removing Optimus or Jazz's influence on the Crystal King that he was so fiercely loyal to and proud to serve.

Smokescreen grunted, looking over the injury before turning away and clipping two strips of metal from his pile of victims and dragging a bundle of internal wiring that had not been too damaged in his murder spree over to the bewildered black and white visored mech.

"No we would not, Sitter-bot." The red, blue and white Crystaline grinned wickedly, bending the war armour around the ankle tightly making his patient whimper and with surprising dexterity tied the wiring around the impromptu cast with an almost insufferable tightness. "This should last you till you reach the base. I would advise seeing that demon medic of yours."

"Thanks Smokey." He sighed in relief, jumping when a taloned hand was offered to him, the Crystaline almost looking shy as he looked away with a puff of methane billowing from his nostrils.

===Optimus' Office===

==A Joor Later==

Optimus couldn't help but smile behind his mask when Jazz stalked into his office, fresh from a mission looking a little worse for wear, his paint scratched beyond possible salvage, limping with a very tough looking repair splint bound to his ankle joint, energon dripping like a cascade of acid rain. "Jazz!" He began, half rising from his chair in alarmed concern as the saboteur stumbled a little after reaching into his subspace and drawing forth a data chip.

"Plans for the next raid," the black and white mech hissed through gritted denta, dropping the chip onto the desk, before collapsing in the guest chair with a relieved sigh of his vents as his Prime hailed an irate Ratchet over the communication lines. "Smokescreen escorted me back. Guess he doesn't hate me that much after all..."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Please R&amp;R

(Looked over by the lovely Ice Fata. The Cover Art was created by the wonderful InMoNochrome. I hope you all enjoy!)

* * *

The long patrol was a source of freedom for the Crystal King. He gleefully grabbed at the chances to snag the vornly Luna Solstice patrols, a time when the twin moons radiated enough light to pierce the smog cloud of war and weakened the magical runes that bound him to the Prime, allowing him to roam.

It was on one of these patrols he encountered a Harpy, listlessly circling the battered Iacon, missing the days that had long past when she could descend and prey among the Cybertronians cramming the streets.

He scaled the tallest building in the vicinity, his metal skin long abandoned back at the base. His claws sank into the framework, shredding pockmarks into the metal as he ascended, bounding up the last few floors with an agility that blurred his features.

The Harpy was waiting for him, a soft teal colour with flimsy transparent silver wing sails that reached from the tip of her right pinkie digit to her left, the veil like material running over her shoulders and down to her hips like a poncho.

"Lady Chromia," he inclined his helm graciously, his crown glittering a little brighter.

"Fae King Prowl." She replied, equally as polite, yet there was a sharp brittle sting in her silky speech that ended with a sharp screech. "You are supposed to be dead."

"My Lady, you give those stupid Councilmechs too much credit." He smiled dangerously, his talons flexing with the barbed tone.

The Harpy scowled, before smoothing her harsh bird-like features, ruffling her feather patterned shawl into a respectable sight, "Hunting has not been kind as of late." She reported stiffly when he made to ask for an update on the comings and goings of the supernatural underworld. "The Mercuricorns are struggling to stay as a glamour with so little prey and the Golem I have in my service is unable to find ores."

"But there are plenty dark souls for you to deliver, and energon to snatch from hungry evil servos." Prowl pointed out, sprawling languidly on a rubble pile as if it were a priceless throne, his crystal body clattering and scraping as he shifted. "Such matters really shouldn't concern a daughter of the wind."

"Some enjoy keeping in touch more than others." Chromia hissed, the wind shrieking around them, rising with her temper. "The Mercuricorn herd hasn't been seen for decacycles. They have never went this long without another creature spotting them, I think that would warrant some concern." She growled, authority cracking like a whip.

He glowered at her, the light from his optical gems thinning to vertical slits, "What do I care if the Mercuricorns have vanished? The scourge of my people, wasted away?"

"The Matriarch was your accomplice in various matters, be it negotiating a treaty between warring tribes across Cybertron or mere company, she was always there, King Prowl. Do the honourable thing and seek after her health." Chromia demanded, flexing her long hooked taloned pedes.

The Fairy King grew tired of the souring conversation, turning his helm to gaze across the jagged horizon as if the splintered smoking landscape was attempting to eat the sky. "If I encounter them during my patrol I shall send Smokescreen to your Rookery atop the Primus Temple. You never know, the pack mules might be laying low like sensible creatures for a change." He negotiated, withholding a wince when the Harpy screeched like a hawk, feeling his crystal skin vibrate as he watched her wing sail light up with a silvery sheen in preparation for flight.

"I hold you to your word, Fae King." She bowed, the first sign of respect that she had showed towards him for a few thousand vorns and bounded off the building, stepping into the air and dancing with the wind, the silver sail flowing about her like a storm of translucent feathers.

He snorted a cloud of methane, pleasantly surprised when a small array of crystals within his rubble throne caught his exhale, and began floating about him. He plucked a dark green from the cloud, biting into it with the air of the royalty that he was, content to listen to its shrieks when his teeth splintered and cracked the emerald shell to dust.

The peace of his small meal was short lived, a lance of lunar light peeking from between the clouds to illuminate how little time he had left before the Lunar Solstice would end and the agonising pain of being away from the Matrix would return.

The Crystaline jumped from his perch, leaving deep gouges in the building as he fell to sharpen his servos, sending out a magical shockwave as his crash landing left a sizeable crater in the road that rippled throughout Iacon, making every supernatural being lurking in the city shiver as the Crystal King's magic licked at their very core.

A returning ping of several large bodies to the west mobilised the fairy, free running and sprinting down the alleys and wide streets like a hound hunting an elusive fox, trailing a stream of heated methane in his wake that sizzled in the air.

It was the smell that hit him first.

Liquid mercury, tangy and sweet, tainted the air with a heavy oppressive scent.

He eyed the warehouse that barred his way with indecision, pausing on the boundary. Mercuricorns always smelled sweet, it was what and who they were.

Large bodied equine like quadrupeds, with dainty sharp cloven hooves of black diamond and a single twisting spire of pure solid mercury that rippled with stored electricity crowning their horse like forehelms. Their manes and thick tails were spun from light filaments, millions of wavy light plastic strands woven through with natural bio-lights, spilling over their strong metal frames that came in a kaleidoscope of colours. The Mercuricorns were also frigid creatures, naturally exceeding below freezing as a common body temperature to keep their horns solid so that they could cast their glamour magic on the virgins they preyed upon and stab the Crystalines that they naturally hated with a passion to rival the warring factions of the planet. They had a peace treaty, signed by the leaders of each race and witnessed by other magical creatures, though some Crystalines would still turn up smashed to pieces by the toxic horns and hooves, while Mercuricorns were sometimes found ripped to shreds if either race ever did cross paths.

However, he felt no change in the temperature as he approached the doors, not a degree of heat fleeing before the herd that should be right of the other side of the door and that should have been causing ice to form at his pedes.

Prowl frowned, pushing open the creaky metal door.

The deactivated frames of the fifty strong Iacon Mercuricorn herd were strewn around the floor in a thick sea of mercury blood.

He stepped back, almost gagging on the poisonous taste, his optical jewels sparkling bright with shock. The herd's Stallion was nearest to him, eyes wide and grey, his twisted blade of mercury snapped clean off, cuts and charred wounds along his pure white body bleeding the silvery liquid. The fairy king leapt onto the nearest clean platform that hadn't been splattered in the carnage, scanning the toxic silver floor for survivors, baring his needle denta with a deep seated fury when he scented the residue magic of Necromancers mingling in the air with the sweet tang of hot mercury.

A flicker of movement caught his optic, a charred purple body shifting as a small aqua coloured mare struggled free from under the much bigger half grown colt that had landed on her.

Her horn was melting, while a desperate frost billowed from her mouth as she tried valiantly to get to her hooves, the sharp black diamond squealing when her legs failed her a few times before she managed to find a precarious balance, quicksilver melting down her body like rain.

Prowl bounded closer, skirting close to the wall where the pools of silver liquid were fewer, letting out a low ring to let the unicorn like creature know that he was present.

"Crystal King." She whinnied, high and shrill, large expressive green optics wide and rolling in their sockets, a small spotlight spinning madly upon him with her gaze. "They killed us! The Cybertronians have killed us all!"

"Be calm. I shall get you help." He rumbled, startled by his own willingness to help his race's natural enemy, mentally scoffing that the Matrix must be wearing off on him.

"No time, no time." The femme gurgled, her small mouth trickling her lifeblood to the floor to mix and pool with the silver lake. "The foals, Matriarch's foals. Keep them safe, Crystal King. Keep our future safe."

"Where do I find them?" He asked as the mare slid back to lie next to her lifeless brothers and sisters, her helm dipping to brush the blood soaked ground, her spire crackling with frosty electricity as it completely melted to join her lifeblood on the floor.

"Iacon... Botanical...Garden."

Prowl watched as the unicorn died, sterilising the earth around it. No crystal would ever grow here, not even if Iacon became a forest in the millenniums to come. It would be a testament to the death of the Mercuricorns.

==Iacon Botanical Gardens=

The Foals were still wobbly on their legs when Prowl discovered them hidden in a thicket inside what had once been an exotic crystal house.

They were twins, one red, one gold, stumbling around in bewilderment and crashing into each other with squeals of frustration, the two brothers yipping in high alarm when he cast a shadow over them, peering into the gloom.

The gold one tossed it's helm like a proud war charger of old, the tiny stub of where his mercury horn would one orn grow glinting silver amidst his short forelock of obsidian coloured filament mane that was streaked with dark bruised purple biolights. The red colt squealed, still finding his balance, causing his brother to loose all of his bravado when they both went down in a tangle of limbs, whinnies and a few nips of baby denta.

Amused, the Crystal King reached out, wincing when he felt the Lunar Solstice enter its last joor, calling him back to his post at the Prime's side.

"Come." He beckoned, hefting a foal under each arm, letting out a sharp audio tingling note when the twins tried to nip at each other across his chest, both Mercuricorns folding back their audial shells at the painful rebuke. "There is nothing left for you here now."

===Five Breems Later===

After much fussing and not so subtle dragging at one point when he let them down to stretch their legs, the black and white tactician managed to get the infant Mercuricorns to follow him.

However, now that the Matriarch's Twins were out of their sheltered thicket, the colts were almost unbearable to herd back to base. They were distracted easily once he let them stop for a small reprieve. The red colt stumbled off to examine a small crystal growth, while the other stuck to Prowl's side like a secondary skin, always in bodily contact no matter how he twisted and turned to be rid of the little parasite that nipped and suckled at his claws every time it became agitated.

He grew tired of their constant loud communications, walking ahead with his golden attachment as the vermillion foal scrambled to catch up with the growing familiarity of the coconut clatter sound of their dainty sharp hooves striking the ground.

He entered the base using his magic to cloak them from prying optics, amplifying their natural glamour magic so that they were even invisible to virgins, a sharp word keeping the chastised twins sticking close to his sides.

Smokescreen jumped when he entered his office, taking a double take from watching his Shardling scale the walls like a gecko to the cautious unicorn foals that followed the Crystal King into the room.

"My king!" The Crystaline hissed, a scandalous cacophony of grinding crystals echoing from his throat, making Prowl raise an optical ridge in mild amusement as the colts began to circle him impatiently. "What the slag?!"

"May I remind you that their are infants in this room." The King growled sharply, his subordinate huffing a stream of hot methane in irritation as he retrieved his protesting Shardling from the crystal plant that the silvery fairy was now cropping and chewing on.

"They are Mercuricorns, the scourge of our kind!" The mostly blue psychologist said acidly.

"They have also lost their family, like you and your Shardling." The second in command replied, striding over to where he had shed his guise and began to reapply the metal armour.

Smokescreen clutched his infant close as the twins approached, the Shardling cheeping with interest at the equines that trotted up to his Spawner with equally curious squeals and whinnies. "So what are the vermin called?"

"I do not know." The King shrugged, stretching with a frustrated grimace when he finally finished donning his disguise, flicking the metal doorwings dismissively. "I was hoping to find the Matriarch alive near them, but I have to assume she was caught in the massacre. Name them as you will, I need to find them a meal."

"I beg your pardon?!" Smokescreen almost screeched like Starscream throwing a tantrum, "You want to gift them with Crystaline names?!"

Prowl did not reply, sweeping out the room and leaving his subordinate to keep an optic on the wandering equines.

===Optimus' Office===

Optimus almost jumped out of his frame when Prowl stormed into his office and began to rake throughout classified filing cabinet, diligently scanning what appeared to be intensive interrogation files on the numerous Decepticons down in the brig.

"May I help you Prowl?" He asked in amusement as he was completely ignored by his Second in Command that looked ready to burst from his metal skin as he tossed away the data-pad he was holding when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"Prisoner 54 was the one that admitted to being a virgin when the Elite Interrogation Unit questioned her, wasn't she?" The black and white doorwinged mech demanded with a growl, scoffing in annoyance when the next pad did not yield the results he wanted either.

"Not that it was really a necessary addition to the file we created for her but yes, I do recall reading that was what happened." Optimus remembered after a moment of contemplation, merely ducking when the next pad sailed over his helm. "May I ask why?"

"I have need of her." The Crystal King frowned, his optics lighting with a carnal glee when he found the pad he was looking for. "Preferably alive and still with her virginity intact. It says here that she is unwilling to reform and is scheduled for execution after we drained all of her information."

"Prowl..." Optimus rumbled, immediately frightened for what the fairy could have in store for the femme.

"Don't worry Optimus." The Crystal King soothed with a distinct silken croon, placing the datapad on the desk and sliding it enticingly across the desk, the release form waiting to be signed and time stamped, "I'm merely removing a problem."

===Jazz===

The femme came quietly, her servos cuffed behind her back securely as he dragged the dull yellow femme through the base to the basement levels of the Autobot Stronghold.

Prowl had been very cryptic over the communication lines, almost purring like an oversized housecat when he suspiciously agreed to take the prisoner to the abandoned Training Room on level B5.

"Lock the door behind you Jazz." Was the only greeting he received when the automatic doors slid open with a pressurised hiss, revealing a stormy looking Smokescreen encased in his guise, which in hindsight probably explained his mood. When not posing as a Cybertronain Psychologist, the Crystaline preferred his 'au naturale' state, which had caused Jazz some major problems when cleaning up the now base famous 'Crystaline Sightings' that the crew had now made a game out of.

To see him now, in his metal skin, away from prying optics was slightly worrying. "Hey Smokey, What's with the get up?"

The Crystaline levelled him with a glower, before jerking his helm towards a post that the now weary femme could be tied to. "Put her over there."

The Special Operations mech shrugged, dragging the now viciously swearing femme after him and binding her securely to the post.

"Mind telling me what's going on?" The black and white visored mech queried when he made his way back across the half lit floor. "Optimus sounded a bit ill when i got the comm."

"We moved the execution date." Was all the Crystaline said as Prowl skulked out of the darkness like a wraith from the other end of the room, a nervous skitter of clattering hooves following him into the light.

"Mercuricorns." Jazz breathed, his vocaliser spitting static in his shock as two small foals trotted into clear view, nickering to each other in excitement when they scented the air.

"They should be invisible to you." Prowl explained standing on Jazz's other side as the metal equines began to circle the femme that was now completely entranced, her optics religiously following the softly glowing bumps on their forehelms that would one day be a long twisting spires of solid mercury. "The Fairy Crystal visor I gave you sees most spectrums of magic, I would have to strengthen the magic it possesses if you were to see through our Cybertronian guises."

The saboteur nodded, frowning as the colts began to circle in tighter like sharks stalking a drowning sailor. The femme cooed, whispering sweet nothings and blessings, delirious with the heavy aura of magic the twins were now giving off in waves.

The red one lunged first, dancing with impatience, the dainty mouth splitting right up to the centre of his broad cheek plating like a crocodile, revealing four rows of rotating saw like teeth that furiously roared to life as a long spiked tongue guided in the expanded jaws, cleanly severing the delirious femme's arm and gulping it down in a spray of energon.

The captive did not react, still euphoric and blind to the world, praises of the Mercuricorn's beauty still spilling from the lips. The gold colt struck next with a gleeful whinny, taking a leg, bolting down the appendage almost whole before going back for more, the twins tearing the oblivious Decepticon apart in mere seconds.

"Don't worry." Prowl commented casually, breaking a crystal he had brought in half and sharing the snack with Smokescreen as if a Cybertronian wasn't being eaten alive before them, trying to reassure Jazz as the suddenly pale saboteur turned away to dry heave against the wall in horrified revulsion. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe only eat Virgins."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

please R&amp;R

(A big thanks to Ice Fata for looking this over. Also if anybody was wondering what a Mercuricorn looks like, InMoNochrome has graciously fulfilled my request and the result is on their tumblr. Enjoy!)

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===Jazz===

===Outskirts of Iacon===

He had never been a writer, more into dotting musical notes upon a pad than fill endless virtual pages of imaginary works, but he was now reconsidering it as he stood facing down what could only be some sort of serpent like creature.

Like a complete and utter rookie, he had tripped over its rather long and glaringly obvious yellow tail, the sides striped with black and the appendage tipped with an electric stinger that oozed molten lightning from the tip, tainting the air with the stench of heated ozone.

It turned away from the electrical power plant that it was plugged into, two sharp jack cables disengaging from the punctures it had made on the main battery where it had been drinking the charge like a vampire before Jazz had interrupted.

The long cables reeled back in, the long spiked jacks completing a full set of rather impressive serrated denta set in a blue opticked, yellow angular helm that was adorned by the same two racing stripes that ran up its body from the tip of the creatures tail.

The bright sulphur coloured serpent hissed a warning, clear plastic gaps on its back lighting up with the harvested electricity, creating the illusions of horns dotting it's back as two skeletal wings spread open, joined to its body by large sails of translucent plastic that buzzed like a bug when the beast examined him. The tail came up, like that of a scorpion, weaving to and fro waiting for the opportune moment to strike, be it with stinger or teeth.

"Mech, I really need to start writing up a bestiary..." He groaned to himself, as the serpent let out a deep guttural roar, sending him running, nimbly dodging a strike from the stinger. "Sorry about interrupting your lunch!" He yelled over his shoulder as he left the mythical creature behind him in the dust.

Smokescreen met him halfway back to base after he had crawled out of his hiding hole, the Crystaline curling a lip in distaste at his scruffy appearance, "You stink of Electrogon." He grumbled, circling his King's chosen friend for any sign of injuries, "It is not wise to keep the company of dragons, Jazz," he admonished, as they parted ways so that Smokescreen could re-skin himself. "For you will most certainly be burned..."

===Later that orn===

===Optimus===

Optimus considered himself a careful mech.

Wise was a given thanks to the Matrix, but that only counted when he accessed the vault of knowledge within the relic. Otherwise he was a cautious fair mech who tried to do right by his faction.

The creature attached to the relic however, old even when the Matrix itself was young, was a permanent shadowy, potentially backstabbing bodyguard. In the orns long lost, the beast had been caught by the Council mechs of Iacon on a hunting trip in Praxus, the skilled mages trapping a creature more powerful than themselves by pure dumb chance.

They all died from Spark Spike a decacycle later, a horrible curse that made the crystal of the spark case grow inwards, dooming them to a slow unstoppable impaling by their own spark chamber, a vengeful gift from the enraged Crystal King.

Optimus knew it would be only a matter of time before Prowl claimed his life, like he had done with Zeta and Sentinel before him when they had emptied power from the Matrix to defend themselves from attackers. If a large imbalance in the magical power of the binding runes occurred, the Crystal King would strike in an attempt to steal back his freedom.

Prowl often tormented him with such possible scenarios now that he knew the more intricate rules of the binding, warning him casually every few orns in passing. Jazz, surprisingly, had taken much of the immediate focus off of himself, the King's keen interest fixed on the saboteur, allowing Optimus to experiment at leisure with the Matrix's energies without the fairy realising it. But alas, he knew that if it came to it and the Matrix was empty of magical energy, he would let Prowl take back his freedom.

But, despite Prowl's occasional outbursts of distain for the Prime and the Council, which considering his past history with both, he was entitled to be a bit bitter, the fairy king seemed to genuinely like him. It was the little things that the Praxian disguised Crystaline did for him that alerted him to the fact that Prowl might not be as vicious as he played himself to be.

When he was feeling stressed or annoyed, the black and white mech was there with a solution or a cube of High Grade. Or when he was told that Elita had possibly been KIA in a skirmish that they had been trying to clean up, the king had been present when he tried to deny the world for a few orns before he had gotten news of his mate alive and well, silently running the army with an air of understanding and camaraderie that was rare for him to display.

Another example of the Crystal King's softer side, not necessarily in relation to himself, were the ways he interacted with the Shardling and the Mercuricorn foals that Smokescreen had adopted as his own after a small period of trying to resist their apparent 'cuteness'. Prowl doted on them, bringing the young creatures small soft candied crystals that Mercuricorns were also known to eat when not hunting virgins, giving Smokescreen a small reprieve from providing for the ever hungry trio. Though in the small hours of the recharge cycle every few orns, many a mech and femme had been startled awake by the feint screams of Virgin Decepticons being devoured on the floors below their quarters.

He jolted back to himself with a startled flare of his armour as the chime on his office door let out a low request for entry. He flicked a switch on his terminal, twirling his stylus as the door hissed open.

Jazz stepped into his office with a dance in his step shuffling a few belated data-pads to try and hide the blatantly flashing icons of 'overdue' in stark red glyphs across the black screen.

"Jazz," he smiled welcomingly, knowing his friend was always late with his reports. However, to keep the flow of menial paperwork smooth, Optimus and Prowl had long switched Jazz's due dates on his data to several deca-vorns before they were really due. So Jazz, guilt tripping that he was being tardy when he saw a flashing overdue banner, was not so much late, but rather one of the most punctual mechs to turn in his reports. Not that the saboteur knew anything about it, much to Optimus' private amusement. "I see you have more overdue data for me to file."

"Sorry OP." The black and white mech grinned apologetically, his fairy crystal visor glinting. "My office is so cluttered I'm pretty sure I could build a datapad fort around my desk. Where's old Prowler? Why's he not here hovering over you like a mother hen?"

"Something about 'taking image captures before Smokescreen wakes up', was the excuse he gave me before he rebuffed my curiosity with a few swiping talons on his way out." The Prime chuckled, tilting his helm to show off the grazed paint. "The runes punished him but he didn't seem to notice them glowing when he darted off."

Jazz whistled, suitably impressed, "Must have been some fun going down if Prowl didn't acknowledge the Binding Runes flashing on."

As if summoned by the repeats of his name, like Bloody Mary in a mirror, the Crystal King skulked into the office with a pleased purr of humming crystals. Magical power coated the air with a heavy pressure making the saboteur and the Prime wince.

"Reign it in a bit Prowl." Optimus recommended, bring up a servo to massage his aching helm as the Fairy did as he requested, reabsorbing potent magic with an annoyed, unapologetic snort of methane that caught the small regrowing Fairy Crystal bush on his desk, flushing the structures a brilliant scarlet and mauve. "We are not the only magic sensitive mechs on base."

"We aren't?" Jazz asked in bemusement as Prowl slid the saboteur his personal datapad with the frozen image of a sleeping Smokescreen curled up like a giant house cat. The Crystaline Shardling was sprawled over his helm, gumming at the golden crystals of the adult's diadem in its recharge while Sunstreaker rested against the Crystaline's side, his long gangly golden legs curled beneath him with his helm resting contently over Smokescreen's blue shoulders. Sideswipe was a whole different matter, mostly concealed by Smokescreen's bulk on his other side, the smaller of the twins was flat on his back with his legs and small hooves curled in the air like a dead spider while his sharp barbed tongue lolled from his split jaw as he dreamed, showing off the impressive set of rotating serrated denta. "This is going into a blackmail file for when they are older."

"My thoughts exactly." Prowl replied, smugly showing Optimus the image before sub spacing the datapad. "And no Jazz, we aren't the only Sensitive's lurking in the Autobots."

"Anybody I know?" The black and white mech grinned devilishly.

"There is a reason that Smokescreen refuses to let his brood go anywhere near the Medical Bay." The Crystal King hinted, a dark indescribable glint in his optics. "What lurks there is something even I am weary to go near."

"Ratchet?" The visored saboteur guessed with a giggle, pausing when the fairy did not join his humour with a smile, nor did Optimus grace the room with a chuckle. "Wait... Seriously?"

The Crytsaline stalked behind the Prime, hovering over the mechs shoulder like a vulture, flexing his clawed metal fingers in a bored fashion, letting a low hum ripple from his throat.

"Not exactly..." The matrix barer finally replied, his optics crinkling at the edges as the blue glow dimmed, a sure sign he was frowning behind the obstructive face mask. "Ratchet may be relatively harmless, but it is the creature attached to him that worries me..."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

please R&amp;R

(So I've been reworking this chapter for weeks and I'm pretty happy with what's eventually come out. I hope you all Enjoy!)

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The Electrogon, that had appeared an orn ago had just been the tip of the figurative iceberg. A whole bachelor flock had taken roost in what had once been a shopping mall in the east district and many areas were beginning to lose power as the dragon's vampiric siege on Iacon's power supply began.

Jazz frowned when Prowl had graced him with his presence, the Crystal King prowling in irritably, his face pulled into a distasteful snarl that showed his perfect needle teeth through his metal guise, "Smokescreen is hunting further afield. The younglings need watched." The black and white disguised mech demanded of him abruptly.

The saboteur sighed, looking despairingly down at his paperwork that would likely never be finished before the deadline. He did try, really he did, but there was often some magical mishap or morale boosting he needed to attend to and Primus knew, that was unfortunately more entertaining than stuffy bureaucratic filing. 'If OP asks, I'm just going to blame this one on the fairies.' He thought smugly as he rolled to his pedes, stretching out his cables and rotating gears that had momentarily seized due to his laziness.

"Sure thing Prowler." He teased earning a cloud of methane straight to his face, his visor flushing with a responsive blinding light making him stumble and clench his optics shut at the visual assault. "Not cool mech, seriously not cool."

However, Prowl wasn't really one to care for such things as hindering his kin's babysitter and merely wrapped his long metal digits around a fumbling Jazz's wrist and dragging the half blinded saboteur after him as the Third in Command reset his optics.

"So why is Smokey taking a vacation?" The black and white visored mech asked his mirror, silently observing Prowl's annoyed growl until the King could think up a rational explanation.

"Because Iacon can no longer provide the energy for sustaining the Shardling with those blasted Electrogons sucking the place dry." The Crystal King eventually grumbled, "He needs better energy sources to create seed pods too and I can't provide for him in this bound state, this is why he is straying into the other cities."

"But what about the younglings?" Jazz asked incredulously, "I do have other duties beyond caring for Mythical Creatures! I have a training schedule that starts in two joors!"

The tactician gave him such a fowl look that he was tempted to skitter across the hall from him less he be torn to ribbons by flexing claws. "Blast you mortals to the Pit." The King cursed acidly, an angry flurry of methane puffing from his mouth like a strand of misty flame. "Come, I shall solve your problem."

"You're not cancelling my training with the other Ops mechs Prowl." The Cybertronain demanded, his anger also flaring. "I can do a Joor and a half, then I'm sure the bitlets can be left alone for the three I need while you are off doing your paperwork."

At the entrance to the Second in Command's office, the Crystaline whirled, a clawed finger pointed directly into Jazz's personal bubble, along with an acidic hiss, "If the Twins get out and kill somebody that isn't a Decepticon, your helm is going on my wall."

"Gee, I love you too." Jazz sneered, equal parts ruffled and terrified by the prospect.

The scene inside the office when Prowl palmed open the door was of mild chaos.

Sideswipe had Bluestreak by the pede, the silver Shardling twittering angrily up at his wolfishly grinning captor, tiny claws flailing as he hung upside down in the Mercuricorn's mouth. Sunstreaker on the other hand, seemed to be trying to stalk them from behind Prowl's filing cabinet, the foal's audial shells flattening back and dainty hooves stomping aggressively when he realised he had been spotted.

"They have been on their own for a total of two breems." Prowl commented blandly as Sideswipe not so slyly spat out his adoptive brother, pricking his ears forward and looking the picture of wounded innocence when Bluestreak bit him afterwards.

"Lovely." Jazz groaned, wearily eyeing Sunstreaker as he wandered by with a snake like hiss, optics narrowed and calculating, his growing filament tail snapping with a whip like crack as he swished it. "Streaky's in a mood and Sides wants to play. Remind me why do I do this without full exosuit armour?"

"Because you are not a virgin." Prowl smiled dangerously, his claws running fearlessly down Sunstreaker's back as he passed towards his desk, the colt grudgingly arching into the caress. "They'll only bite you if you antagonise them."

"Lucky me." The saboteur sighed, "Where's Smokey? Did he leave already?"

"He left during the night cycle. He should be in Kaon by now." Prowl shrugged as if he hadn't authorised one of the last of his kin to scavenge for energy and seed pods in the Decepticon hub city. "Mission is strictly off grid."

"Obviously," Jazz snorted in amusement, picturing a totally serious Prowl before the assembled officers explaining that, yes, the Fae folk were real, he was a King and he had just sent one to Kaon on some super secret mission to recover an energy source so it could feed its hungry child. The worst thing about it was that the only shrink from Iacon to Tarn, was Smokescreen, who'd clear Prowl of any insanity claims on the account that everything was strictly true.

"If you would take them to their feeding ground, it might inspire them to stretch their legs." The fairy king prodded as Bluestreak scuttled across his desk like a startled gecko scattering pads in a flurry of clicking crystal claws on metal, Sideswipe hunting him along the edge of the table with his barbed tongue flicking. "And I might actually get some work done."

===Kaon===

==Smokescreen==

Kaon was turning into a dump.

Filth coated everything, leaving unsightly black and brown stains streaked across buildings and roads, pocked with missile craters and piles of rubble stacked in grotesque formations, playing with the smog choked light to cast shadows of monsters.

Among it all, a Crystaline stalked.

Smokescreen had been at it for joors, tracing broken streets from memory to find only shattered gardens and decimated public space. Barely any fragments of the Kaonite crystals were salvageable, his only real find being a cracked seed pod for a Kaon Crucible, a rare crystal even back when the gardens had thrived.

He chewed on a splintered red crystal, picked from a stunted shrub, his face scrunching at the sour taste, silently berating himself about his classier tastes now that he had Iacon to roam and the Crystal King's underground garden hoard to feed from.

Wincing the blue Crystaline tossed his snack away, tapping his talons on the ground in a wave like motion as he pondered what garden to try next. His metal skin had been left on the stealth shuttle, his true form glimmering like an angels grace in the mouldy, grim streets, clouded over with arid smog. The star trapped in the fairy's chest lit the way, casting a blue hued rainbow when he passed a shattered mirror blown clear from a residential flat.

He froze when the sound of shattering crystal reached him, sliding into a crouch like a stalking lion, talons raking furrows in the dirt, back spikes hovering to stand erect as his methane vents opened. A territorial display, a response to the roar of his kin. The diadem crown upon his helm flushed molten gold, glowing faintly as he clambered up the nearest wall that didn't look liable to collapse on him and shuffled his way closer to his old favourite garden.

The Crystaline call rose in pitch before the sound turned into a strangled wail, suddenly cutting off with a violin screech of terror.

Smokescreen shuddered, the call rippling through him, his back blades folding down with a submissive wilt. He crept closer, so that his talons were hooked over a cracked window ledge looking into what had once been a thriving garden now a decimated patch of land littered with shards of crystals that would crunch under foot like glass. At the centre, was a thrashing Crystaline, silver in colour, with a diadem of orange, it was choking, rolling in place like a hunting crocodile, methane vents flared open puffing up clouds of crystal dust.

Smokescreen held his tongue, watching as a dark sludge like substance seemed to seep through the vein pathways of his kin. Mercuricorn poison. A strike from its horn, lethally poisonous. It was not painful to watch, his own brand of contempt lay at that particular creature's talons too. With a final choked hiss as the inky darkness drowned the star at his core, the Crystaline, Silverfin, Bluestreak's Sire, passed from the world.

Nothing stirred, nothing moved to claim the kill as the Psychologist had seen gangs of Mercuricorns do. So after a few breems, he slithered down the wall, slowly, silently till his talons were at the ring of shards.

He flinched at the loud crunch of his pedes upon the multicoloured dust, helm looking this way and that till he reached his kin's side, staring down at the dark optical gems with a deep seated contempt.

"You never did right by me." He said to the silence, acid dripping from his tone. "I'm glad you're gone."

Smokescreen searched the body, refraining from actually touching the infected corpse. If Silverfin had died normally, merely shattering, then he could have cropped some crystals from him to replenish a garden's stock. The Crystaline had once had the most beautiful skin in the entire city, though his personality had not really reflected it in the end. Now that the once beautiful corpse was infected with Mercuricorn poison, it would be left to disintegrate with the acidic properties of the 'Darkness' that had claimed him.

The Autobot Crystaline rose, frowning when he noticed something glinting silver a little away, half buried in the crystal dust Silverfin's death throes had stirred up.

Smokescreen reached out and clasped what appeared to be the hilt of a dagger lifting it free and holding it to the gloomy light to examine. He dropped it as if scalded, skittering back with a cry.

Necromancer text had been engraved into it, but there was no denying what it was, not when he knew exactly where, no, what the blade of that weapon had come from. For glinting in the dust, with the reflection of a cloaked mech standing behind the shell shocked Smokescreen with a mirroring dagger in hand, was a Mercuricorn Horn.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own transformers!

Please R&amp;R!

(Yay I'm on a roll with this! Looked over by the lovely Ice Fata, please enjoy!)

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Smokescreen heard more than felt the dagger slide into his left shoulder.

A deep cracking noise filled the sudden quiet, crystal skin splitting with a buttery ease beneath the sharp tip of the blade. The pain flickered into life within moments, hot on the heels of the impact. He screeched, swinging round, the blade that was lodged firmly in his body wrenched from grasping fingers. The blue Crystaline lunged forward, his adversary back peddling so that the fairy's long lethal talons tore open the shins of his attacker in a quartet of energon spraying lines.

The hooded Necromancer went down with a cry, his black cloak fluttering about him and hindering what little he could move. The shadowed oval where his face should be fell away, revealing an ebony face with fearful violet optics staring up at the looming, snarling Crystaline with a Mercuricorn Blade sprouting from its shoulder.

"Swindle!" Another hooded Necromancer shouted in concern, a bow with Mercuricorn blood dipped arrows aimed and primed.

Smokescreen roared, smashed glass and a horrible shriek rolling in the Kaon gloom as the poison began to seep into his body from the lodged weapon. The air stank of dark magic, putrid and sulphurous, catching the back of his throat. He was vaguely aware of ducking away from the flying arrow that had been loosed through his burning pain, swiping the shaft out of the air and snapping it in two with a show of fury with needle teeth bared.

They needed to die.

But it was the thought of home that stopped him, making him spin on his talons and burst into a run, away from danger, away from certain death.

His sweet little Shardling and his Twins, though not of his magic, nor even species, were undeniably his, would be left all alone if he Shattered. He knew his King would never fail him and raise them as best as he was able with the Saboteur Jazz as help, but he also had a curse to deal with and an army to run. That left very little time to nurture growing creatures of their calibre.

All this flashed through his mind as he ran, dodging arrows and throwing knives, hunted like a turbo fox. The poison was beginning to sizzle in his veins, an obsidian web leaking through his shoulder from the dagger still imbedded within him. It was creeping towards his core much slower than what was average, a possible byproduct of remoulding what had once been a vital tool for the Mercuricorn that had owned it.

He took the next left, towards an old bolt hole he had made back when he was no more than a Shardling. As he had grown he had draped it in magical illusions, a speciality that ran in his crystal line so that it had been his private place.

He ducked into an alley, bounding up the walls as shouts ran by below him, dark cloaks swirling in the smog ridden streets, black ghosts haunting shadows.

Exhausted and suffering, Smokescreen dropped into an abandoned apartment through a window that was magicked to look like a wall. It still held a treasure trove of trinkets from when he had been still living in Kaon with his Family, local offerings or boons from gardeners that had once looked upon the Crystaline's as holy nature sprites tending to Primus's sleeping body.

He sank down next to a half stunted shrub of Tarnian Tender, plucked from the travelling market many vorns ago that he had lovingly grown and guarded jealously for nearly a hundred vorns. It was bent and weak now, nothing like glorious golden shrub he had abandoned in search of what remained of his family after a particularly brutal attack on the city.

He turned with effort onto his uninjured side, puffing clouds of methane in the pain spreading from his shoulder, crystals floating into air as he leaked yet more of the nurturing gas into the room. He felt cold, yet he was being roasted alive simultaneously as he thrashed a little when a spasm took him, his kicking sharp talons severing a rouge crystal shrub clean in two. He whined like a dying whale, his claws flexing uselessly against an enemy within himself.

Vision began to fail him, dark curtains drawing his immortal life to a close. He reached into subspace, a useful ability picked up from the Cybertronians he worked with, wincing as he pulled a long opaque crystal from his subspace.

"My King." He hissed, choking as another fit gripped him sending him half rolling in an uncoordinated flail. "Prowl..."

His vision faded as the scrying crystal dropped from his limp talons.

**_===Iacon===_**

**_==Prowl==_**

He was in a meeting with Optimus when the sense that something was wrong curled over him like a wave. He visibly shivered, his metal doorwings shooting up in alarm at the magic based input, his chevroned helm jerking to spy the glimmering crystal on the Prime's desk. The Crystal King reached out, his clawed metal fingers shaking as a dread filled him. He did not hear Optimus call him nor feel the binding runes flare, he only had optics for the crystal.

White fingers caressed the mineral, an electric jolt washing into the king as a vision captured him, foggy milk coloured methane smoke swirling into his helm to paint a distressing picture.

Smokescreen was unconscious, sprawled near where the scrying crystal had rolled from his lax fingers, a shiny silver dagger embedded deep into the shoulder with black Darkness spreading slowly but surely towards his Kin's star core.

The vision was swept away, leaving him groaning with a deep seated distress, Optimus worriedly asking what was wrong as the Crystaline braced himself on the table, panting a harsh cloud of methane as his arms shook with his weary weight.

"Prowl, do you need to see Ratchet?" Optimus repeated when his Second in Command looked at him owlishly.

"Ratchet...?" The Crystal King parroted in a daze, before a sharp plan snapped into his mind like a thunderbolt from on high.

He swept from the room, the Prime anxiously following him with a deep rumble of displeasure when the fairy silenced him with a wave of his servo.

Prowl burst into the Medical Bay, a frightening snarl on his face as he grew more and more annoyed with the whole situation.

Ratchet, never one to back down from a challenge, came at him with a wrench in hand from a tool box he had been cleaning, his own expression of contempt fading into shock when Prowl locked down the medical bay with his personal access codes. "Excuse me?! What the frag do you think you are doing?!"

The Praxian did not reply, levelling him a sour look before demanding him softly, "Summon Him."

Jerking like he had been shot, the medic composed himself before he sneered, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know very well what I am talking about." The Crystaline snarled, bursting from his metal skin, trapped star at his core blazing, lighting him from within. "Summoner Ratchet."

"Ex-Summoner." The CMO growled, his familiarity with magic glaringly obvious when he did not react past the mess that the Crystaline made of his floor.

He did react however when Prowl charged him, long deadly talons curling around his collar flaring and lifting him from the floor, "I will not watch one of my kin die before me when I have the power to prevent it. Summoner Ratchet, you will call your familiar."

"He's not my familiar! He's Unicron Spawn!" The Mage retorted, though his servos did drop the wrench to grasp at Prowl's wrist.

"He may be one of the Dark Saints and a blight upon creation, but I need him right now. Summon him." The tactician barked furiously, needle teeth bared and vents flaring open to raise his back spikes.

"Oh, I'm already here." A voice cooed, giggly and excited.

Optimus jerked away from the doors as a curl of black smoke fluttered out from a drone beside him, the Prime wincing as the Matrix recoiled at the odd negative energy.

Prowl dropped the resigned looking Mage with a pleased snort and turned to the cloud. It didn't take shape, nor did it come any closer. "Dark Saint Wheeljack. You're looking well."

"Phshaw, looking well yourself Prowl." The smoke giddily swirled, a pair of blue optics and a creepy slasher smile of the purest white peering out from the depths. "How long has it been?"

"Not long enough, Slayer of Primes." Prowl replied neutrally. "But circumstances call for your aid."

The smoke fluttered, until a dark raven like bird was perched on a life support, "You kill one Prime and suddenly its 'No goodies for you, your a spawn of Unicron'."

Even though the bird was generally expressionless, the gathered mechs and mythical creature could tell that the Dark Saint was pouting.

"I am more pleased that you are not being influenced by your more temperamental kin. The Dark Thirteen were always such a pain to deal with before you all lost your bodies." Prowl rumbled, clearly not amused.

"No fun as usual Prowl." Wheeljack jeered, the raven dancing on the spot. "Now what need would you have of me? I'm busy you know. Ratchet has me put to work doing inventory."

"I am fully aware that You and Ratchet have a binding agreement, as unwise as summoning you was." Prowl began, clicking his talons on the floor irritably. "But in payment for the safe return of my injured kin, I will give you what you've always wanted, ever since Prima banished the dark Primes from their frames to live as formless ghosts."

The raven dissipated into a swirling mass of excitement, the formless face returning with narrowed eyes but the slasher smile broadening eagerly as Ratchet tried to protest in the background, a curl of darkness rendering him voiceless as his summon silenced him with a flick of its eyes.

"And that would be?" Wheeljack prompted, playful and deliciously eager.

"A body to call your very own." The Tactician replied silkily, extending a taloned hand in offering. "Do we have a deal?"

A servo, skeletal and all things wrong formed in the whisk of frothing dark, curling around the crystal talons. "You have yourself a Deal, Crystal King Prowl."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

Please R&amp;R

(Looked over by the lovely Ice Fata. I hope you all enjoy!)

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**===Kaon=== **

**==Smokescreen's Nest==**

Awareness was painful.

It was as if someone had taken a hot scalpel and was slowly driving into his temples, before drawing an agonising line across his helm, almost throwing him back into blissful unconsciousness. His vision was blurry and pain streaked, though the dark roof of his Nest was still visible.

A cold front had set in while he had succumbed to his blight, curled half in a ball, hidden under a cluster of his plants while his good hand clutched at his blackening shoulder, just under the blade still lodged firmly in his body. He panted like an overheating dog, methane clouding and feeding his neglected plants, a new lustrous sheen rippling over his once prized crystal collection.

He unfurled into the cold slowly, sighing with a euphoric ecstasy as it licked away the burning heat that was tempering his internals. The glow of his blue crystal skin was gradually fading, his Core flickering and glimmering like a guttering candle while the darkness slipped through his vein like imperfections.

Smokescreen resigned himself to his slow death, his immortal life balancing literally on a knife edge. He groaned, a scratchy call of desperation for the comfort of his kind barked from his throat, the sound exploding of glass. The fairy struggled onto his front, his legs and talons flexing as if to push himself to his pedes.

With little surprise, he failed. Another spasm shook him, his back vents flaring open to raise his back panels in mild alarm as he was sent back to lie face first upon the dusty floor with an agony weary groan.

He was awake for some reason, he gathered, tilting his helm to gaze around his alcove with squinted optical gems, his body's last ditch attempt to get him to safety he imagined, letting out a strained huff of methane to roll onto his side.

"...hear that?" A voice asked out of the darkness, his senses sharpening in panic and alarm as what appeared to be a green blob peered into his den. "Oooh, Trailbreaker! Look at this! I found an abandoned Crystaline Nest!"

Smokescreen sighed, relaxing from his wired state as much as the poison in his system would allow, barely holding in a hiss as another shiver nearly audibly rattled him. His Crystal Line was known for its illusion abilities, a side strain of magic that complimented his natural core magic which enabled him to grow crystals at an accelerated rate. Where it would take a mortal gardener his entire function to nurture a several hundred foot crystal Willow to its full potential, a Crystaline could merely wave their servo and it would spring into being. But right now, his illusions around the patch of crystal shrubs he had succumbed in were shielding him from the prying optics of this intruder.

"I've never seen a Crystaline Nest in the metal before." The green blob with blue optics was excitedly explaining to a small black creature that had fluttered in to land perched at the entrance. "I've seen artists imagining's of them in my Grand-Carrier's data-pads, but I'm sure this is one."

"You say that about every hole in the wall that has Crystals growing in it." The companion said gently, as Smokescreen shifted slightly and shook his helm to get a better focus. "What makes you so sure this time?"

"The entrance was covered in illusion magic, unique to the Kaon Crystaline breed and last but not least, take a look at these varying ranges of seed pods. There are so many different types here from all over the Empire, before it fell." The green mech was explaining, raking around in what was supposed to have been Smokescreen's secret stash of pods for when he would have staked a claim on his own personal garden territory.

He let out a volatile hiss, tired and sore, with the threat of his looming demise he wanted to be left in peace. He purposely shifted, making one of the shrubs covering him rattle and shake to alert the intruders to his presence. He heard the satisfying flutter of the avian escaping with a squawk and the yelp of a mortal startled followed by quick pede steps back towards the entrance. Huffing another blast of methane, he resettled with a delusional growl, still seeing shapes and shadows in his illness. But as he slid unwillingly back into the restless slumber of his poisoned state, he heard the pede steps once more, clumping nearer until he felt more than heard a Crystal bush being moved aside, with a panicked voice filtering in on the wind.

"Hound, wait! What are you doing?!"

**==Iacon==**

**==Autobot Base==**

**==Medbay==**

Being formless sucked.

Being a powerful dark Demi-God that was formless, even more so.

He lingered in his avian form, perched quietly on Ratchet's shoulder strut as Prowl stalked off with the obviously frowning Prime to find him a body.

"So what do you think I'll get?" He asked his summoner gleefully, cawing into the irritated medical officer's audio, who batted him off with a flick of his palm, the bird shifting like sand so that he was but a black cloud once more.

"Hopefully something without a vocaliser." The red and white mech snarked back at him with little humour, his servos dug deep into a training drone's internals as he practiced some surgery or other. "Anyway, shouldn't you be prepping to leave for Kaon?"

"I want my end of the bargain first." The Dark Prime warned with a playful grin, shining rows of denta flashing pearlescent white from the smog cloud that formed the spirit. "No body, equals no Smokescreen."

"The Crystaline has a brood you know." Ratchet tried to reason softly, "a pair of Twin Mercuricorns and a Shardling."

"You should know by now, Ratchet, that appealing to my soft spot for younglings will get you nowhere." Wheeljack grumbled moodily, though a twitch if curiosity coloured his words. "I wasn't aware that there were any immortal brood on base."

"Prowl was very... clear in his instruction that Smokescreen was never to let any of the three of them down here." The medic replied, turning away from his false patient to condescendingly shake his blow torch at his demon familiar. "The Crystal King can do little against a demon possessing the body of a youngling, but purge the both of you."

Wheeljack's slasher grin contorted into a furious snarl, the black fog that he was, puffing like a rolling storm cloud, "How gracious of him."

With that the demon Prime floated off to possess a tinker toy sitting idly on the farthest shelf to sulk while he waited for a body.

**===Jazz===**

**==Autobot Base==**

He was so dead.

The Twins had escaped.

Bluestreak had distracted him, scampering on the high ceiling without a care as the saboteur had returned from his training session, scuffed and grumbling about strained joints.

As he contemplated luring the silvery fairy down with a crystal from the doorway, a whirlwind of golden yellow and bloody crimson flashed by with high squeals of delight.

Now here he was, Fairy child clutching to his back like a limpet as he scoured the corridors for the two wayward Unicorns before they took a bite out of half the crew. They had been hungry these last few joors, whining and calling for food in their usual tantrum like way, stamping, snapping their tails in a whip like manner and irritably nipping at anything that got to close.

"Sides! Streaky!" He called fruitlessly down the empty halls, silently thanking Primus that it was the middle of the recharge shift. "Come on little mechs, your uncle Prowl will have my helm if you guys don't pop up before he comes to get you."

Sighing miserably he turned the corridor towards the Command Centre, only to freeze in aghast horror at what he found.

A body, both arms and one leg scattered over the floor, while bright, luminescent pink energon dripped from the walls and a thick splatter on the ceiling. The mech was online, blue optics rolling in agonising pain and delirious bliss as they focused on him, mouth open and useless as the dumbstruck saboteur spotted the hole where a barbed tongue had speared a vocaliser.

Upon this poor, innocent mech, feasted the Twins.

They held the mech down with their diamond hooves on either side, tails lashing at the air, their tongues piercing rapid fire holes into the brown mech's torso, nipping away the circular waste with dexterous lips before opening their maws fully to feast on the still working internals beneath.

He felt sick at the carnage, a shrill primal echo in his processor screaming at him to run and hide from the nightmarish scene before him. The saboteur did not think to try and stop the Mercuricorns' feast, they had hunted to perfection, silencing their target and hypnotising the prey with their magic so that it did not struggle while they disabled the rest of its escape. Under natural law, the kill was theirs, be it a sentient being or not. As soon as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had targeted him, the unsuspecting mech had been dead.

It did not take much longer for them to finish, nudging the left over helm between them like a gruesome game of keep away, before Sideswipe took to licking up some of the evidence, while Sunstreaker wrapped his jaws around the still silently screaming helm and flagged his tail happily when he spotted Jazz watching them gobsmacked from the end of the corridor, a servo plastered over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. The gore covered golden colt trotted to him, his proud stride carrying him with the supple grace of a dancer as he graciously offered Jazz the remainders of the kill, grunting anxiously when he made no move to take it.

"And what exactly do you think you are doing?" A deep voice commented icily, earning a shocked squeak from the Third In Command as he jumped, spinning on his heel, Bluestreak tweeting in delight at the motion to come face to face with the glowering visage of the Crystal King himself.


End file.
